The Worgen's Curse
by Zayden77
Summary: Set in a small village in the Hillsbrad Foothills, just before the invasion of the Forsaken. A lonely worgen hunter must earn the trust of the village before he can save them from a terrible fate. Rated Teen for violence in coming chapters.
1. Chapter 1

The hooded and cloaked man slipped into the tavern, the great wolfish hound at his side drawing more than one stare. The harried barmaid bustled over as the man and animal settled into an empty niche away from the curious eyes of the other patrons.

"What can I get for you?" she asked, casting a wary eye on the massive dog sitting by the table.

"Ale," the man said with a gentle smile. "Don't fear old Benn there, he won't hurt you."

The barmaid laughed as the hound's tale thumped on the hard-wood floor. It's eyes rolled back in pleasure and its tongue lolled from its mouth as the girl scratched its ears.

"Your ale will be right out," she said forcing herself to part with the amiable animal.

"You're getting soft Benn," Thane Shadowholme murmured as the dog crawled under the table to flop across his feet. He leaned back to gaze out the window at the rain lashed night, bringing out a finely crafted pipe. He carefully lit it and felt himself begin to relax as the warmth and the white noise of dozens of conversations drifted over him.

The barmaid returned bringing him back to reality. "Thank you," he said as she set out a foaming tankard and a plate of bread and cheese.

"You are welcome," she replied, smiling as the big dog began to push against her leg with its head, whining for attention. She looked up at Thane as she petted the shaggy skull. "I have a bone in the kitchen I could give him, if you would like him to be fed."

He shrugged and took out his pipe to speak. "Why not? Thank you for your kindness Miss." After the barmaid left he regarded the dog with melancholy amusement. "At least one of us can make friends, huh fuzzball?" He stroked his pet's silky fur. "Don't get too proud of yourself. Large and furry with puppy dog eyes doesn't cut it."

" And don't I know it," he mumbled to himself, fingering the Gilnean symbol hidden under his shirt. It had not taken long since the opening of the Greymane Wall for him to learn to keep the medallion out of sight.

He smiled and nodded his thanks as the barmaid flitted by once again, this time leaving a large bone.

The evening slowly passed by and eventually the crowd began to thin. Thane found himself sitting in front of the hearth, carefully transforming a block of wood into a large hound. The barmaid, whose name Thane found was Jetta, sat by an empty table stroking Benn's head as the hound dozed with its head on her lap.

Thane looked up as the bartender, a jolly, heavyset man with grey hair and a cheerful smile, squeezed out from behind the bar.

"Quieted down didn't it?" he asked as he sat down near Thane, leaning back with a groan.

Thane paused his carving. "I can leave if you wish," he said. "I do not wish to trouble you…."

The bartender gave a short grunting laugh. "Oh it is not trouble. Besides I don't think my Jetta wants to part with her new friend."

A smile spread over Thane's face as he watched the girl and the dog. "Aye, and old Benn would take that for days if he could."

"Jetta's always had a way with the animals," the bartender said, extending his hand to Thane. "And the creatures love her back. My name is John. You have a place to stay tonight friend?"

"Call me Thane," the younger man said reaching out his hand in return. "And no I do not. I had been figuring to sleep in the stable."

"A lot of folks coming from the west; now there are odd stories floating about of strangers from behind the wall at Gilneas," John continued, his shrewd eyes trained on Thane. "Strange stories, frightening even…."

Thane's throat tightened and he had to force his face to remain a calm mask. "What of them?" he asked.

"I mean no offense good sir," John said raising his hands in a placating gesture. He leaned forward concern filling his mild eyes. "I know you are from Gilneas, or around there at least. You're accent isn't easy to hide. Now you're a stranger here so I don't blame you for not knowing, but the people here are afraid, we know the beasts that are supposed to be behind those walls. The Bloodfang wolf-men have killed many people of our town, and there are stories of a darker fate for others."

"So the Gilneans are feared as cursed, for bringing the worgen," Thane said, voice flat and cold. "I see – "

John raised his hands cutting the disgruntled hunter short. "No no no, I mean no offense good sir, and please don't get the wrong idea, I only want to help. The worgen are greatly feared, and right or wrong the people of this town blame those behind the Greymane Wall." He slowed and looked Thane in the eye. "I want you to stay here in the inn tonight. There are those in this town that would kill you or run you off, rather than risk entertaining one who could carry the curse."

Bewilderment filled Thane's face. "Even so I cannot leave" he said. "I have taken bounties on the ogres to the north, and have accepted payment. Honor does not allow me to walk away…."

John's eyes widened in surprise and sudden respect, and he glanced at the splendid but worn sword that hung at Thane's side. "It takes a man of skill to hunt those brutes, or a great fool." He said, pausing as he regarded Thane with new eyes. "And something tells me that you are no fool."

A grim smile touched Thane's bewhiskered features. "I certainly hope not."

"If you give those monsters a reason to fear, you will make yourself a fast friend of this village, Gilnean or no," the cunning bartender said with a grin. "Until then you can stay in here by the fire." He rose and summoned his dozing daughter, shaking his head at her sorrowful expression. "Come now Jetta, leave the poor man and his dog to their rest."

He chuckled as she got up and flounced out. "I would watch out Master Thane, I think my daughter wants to keep your dog for herself."

Thane snorted, before chuckling helplessly as Benn padded over and pressed against his legs. "Old Benn's getting soft I tell you," he replied, shaking his head. "And here I thought dogs were supposed to be loyal, not fawning after every lass that gives him her attention."

The elderly bartender smiled, and got up with a grunt. He shook Thanes hand. "Good night to you friend, and good hunting tomorrow."

For a short time Thane stared into the dying fire, pondering the strange scar he could still feel on his shoulder. Once he was sure the tavern keeper and his daughter would not return he allowed himself to shift into his true form. The silver haired worgen stared sadly at his massive, clawed, paw-like hands before burying his scared muzzle in them.

Benn padded over to his master, wedging his head under Thane's arm. The lonely lycanthrope gazed down at his hound. Though the rage of the worgen curse had been cured, the fearful affliction still haunted Thane. The fear and the hatred of other races toward his kind filled Thane's heart with sorrow and hurt. He could already feel the frightened, hateful, unreasoning eyes of the townsmen as they discovered his true nature.

"Will I ever be free of their hate?" he asked the night. "Will I ever be free from my curse?"


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Thane crouched over a tiny smokeless fire sipping some freshly made tea. He pulled his cloak tighter about himself, looking around at the light dusting of snow that had sifted through the trees sheltering his hideaway. He drained his drink and stood gazing out into the predawn light.

"Here we go Benn," he said patting the bag of ogre ears on his belt. The dog rose and padded to his master's side looking up expectantly. Thane smiled and scratched the beast's ears. "Let's go hunting."

A chill mid-morning breeze sighed around the stones of Thane's vantage point, one of many he had discovered in his weeklong campaign against the ogre tribe. Already two of their hunters had fallen to his deadly arrows, and a third to his sword and dagger.

With three of their number found dead, the brutish humanoids had become nervous, never leaving the ruins they called home except in groups of three or more. Even with his fearsome archery and blade skill, Thane knew that with three ogres at once his chances where dreadfully small; so he waited for an opening, his fierce eyes roaming the ruins. Finally it seemed his chance was upon him. One of the ogres, a dreadfully fat monstrosity with two heads and a penchant for magic, seemed to grow bored and began to wander through the outskirts of the camp into the ruins. In the time spent watching the monsters Thane had seen the mage get into more than one brawl that ended with his opponent roaring away in pain from a blast of ice and deadly cold; it seemed now that none were willing to accompany the bully on its venture into the shambles of the fallen city.

As the ogre magi wandered farther from the safety of his clan, Thane followed from a distance slipping along the wooded mountainside like a shadow. The cunning worgen settled down on his haunches under a bush watching with Benn as the two headed ogre sat down beside a tumbled down wall to rest. Knocking an arrow to the string of his heavy long bow he leaned down to whisper into his hound's ear.

The well-trained dog almost seemed to nod before it crept away into the snowy brush. Thane watched for a moment before drawing his black fletched shaft back to zero in on the resting ogre. Even as his arrow hissed out to plunge deep into the monster's chest, Benn burst out of hiding and streaked through the primitive village barking and howling like a beast gone mad.

The pandemonium was instant and more than loud enough to cover the pained gurgle of the wounded ogre mage as Thane's second and third arrows pierced its twin throats. Thane rose as the doomed creature struggled to his feet. A rumbling growl forced its way from the worgen's lips as he bared his fangs and drove two more shafts into the stubborn monster.

Thane stowed his longbow and sprinted down the slope as the ogre finally collapsed with a dying grunt. Carefully staying out of sight with all his keen senses trained on the calming village, Thane expertly removed the ears and put them in the bag with the rest. Then like a wraith he slid away, the only sign of his presence the dark feathered arrows remaining in the fast cooling body.

By the time Thane reached camp Benn had found his way to his side, having easily lost the hungry ogres. Thane scratched his ears. "Good boy," he murmured. "Good boy."

It was just after midday as Thane rummaged through his battered pack, pulling out his few remaining supplies: a couple of strips of dried meat and a partial wheel of cheese. "Looks like we need to get back to Southshore again Benn…" he said stroking the big dog's back. The hound whimpered, looking mournfully at the simple rations. Thane chuckled and broke of a piece of the tough meat giving it to the begging animal. "Maybe we are both getting soft, you beggar." he said.

The hunter ate his own sparse meal as he packed his few belongings into the saddlebags of his tough, shaggy pony. The wind started to blow once again, the darkening sky threatening a storm. Large flakes of snow began to fall as Thane led his pony down a faded trail out of the snow covered mountains.

It was mid afternoon by the time he reached the foothills of the Alterac Range. The snow had turned into a cold steady rain that threatened to soak through even Thane's heavy cloak. Returned to his human form, the worgen hunched miserably in the saddle, watching the countryside pass by through a sheet of water dripping from his hood.

Benn growled and Thane reigned to a stop. The thick fur on the hounds back bristled and he growled again staring off into the west. Thane dismounted and shifted forms, testing the air with his wolfish nose. A familiar scent pulled his lips back from his teeth and brought a deep rumbling growl from his cavernous chest.

"Undead," he snarled. Pain shot up his arm as he dug his long claws into his palm, forcing himself to remain calm. He looped his mount's reins through a sturdy bush and stroked the pony's nose speaking a gentle command.

"Sorry Benn," he said kneeling by the faithful animal. The dog's soft brown eyes stared up at Thane and it whined, putting a large paw on the worgen's arm. Thane sighed and scratched the shaggy head. "No boy, you can't follow me this time."

Benn whined again and sat to wait on the wet ground as his master faded away into the rain swept woodland.

Like a ghost Thane appeared on the edge of a sloped clearing. His muzzle tingled as the sickly smell grew closer and his ears began to twitch as an odd sound began to get nearer and nearer. A shadow seemed to darken the far edge of the clearing as ranks of skeletal warriors and gargantuan abominations appeared, pouring into the opening in the trees like a deathly tide.

Thane's eyes narrowed as the breeze caught the banner at the armies head. "The Forsaken?" he asked under his breath. "What are they doing here?" He followed the dark force for over a mile, making sure to keep well hidden. Finally, concealed on a rocky crag overlooking a wide valley, he saw the large battalion disappear into the wood around the Horde stronghold of Tarren Mill. The worgen rested his chin in his palm a deep thoughtful frown darkening his brow.

There had been rumors, he knew, of a power shift among the leaders of the Horde; if the armies of the Forsaken were on the move if could well mean that the tales were true. If the reasonable Thrall had lost his place as Warchief it could mean the fragile peace was breaking and that war was on the horizon. His mind filled with troubling thoughts, Thane vanished back into the forest.

The next day, as the sun hung low over the mountains in the west, John the bartender labored over his collection of mugs, glasses, and tankards making sure he had a good supply for the coming night. He jumped as a shadow fell over him.

"Why master Thane," he exclaimed extending his hand with a wide smile. "You are back. How was your hunting?"

"It was fine," Thane said keeping his voice soft, a grave look on his bearded visage. He leaned forward. "What do you know about Tarren Mill?"

John's face blanched as Thane gave him the disturbing news. "Did you tell anyone else what you saw?" he asked pale faced.

"I knew not who to tell," Thane replied with a shake of his head.

"I will gather the town leaders," said the rotund bartender, concern warping his usually cheerful face into a frown. "They must hear of this."


End file.
